


The Wednesday Routine

by younghyuns



Series: the days of the week [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Depression, Implied/Referenced Supernatural Occurrences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/younghyuns/pseuds/younghyuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person lives through countless Wednesdays in their life; Hiro Hamada counts them all. Because at the start of every day, when his covers get ripped off and Tadashi's voice sings the day, he knows what's coming. But after a while, you learn. Whether the lesson is worth learning however, is a choice that transcends all the lifetimes, and all the Wednesdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wednesday Routine

The Wednesday Routine

            Hiro is, to put very lightly, not a morning person. By leaps and bounds, he is, at the least, groggy and will, if not always, fall asleep in some part of his morning routine. He awakes, in a typical manner, on a Wednesday in the middle of an August sweating its days out, with Tadashi ripping off his blankets. The sunlight flowing in from his opened window plays peek-a-boo with his crow’s nest of black locks and he realizes that today is Wednesday. But today is not any other Wednesday; he feels it in the constricting of his stomach and the way his throat feels oddly ticklish as he breathes.

            “C’mon Hiro, wake up! You ready?” Tadashi’s voice ricochets off all the walls spreading cheer where nervousness has not invaded already. Hiro hops out of bed; protests and complaints left behind in the disarray of his mind and makes his way to their bathroom. It’s a double sink, but Hiro still stands close to Tadashi. He claims that he’s just waiting for the toothpaste.

            He answers Tadashi’s inquiry late.

“Wanting to puke counts as being ready right?” Hiro says, flashing a wry, toothy smile in the mirror.

            “Totally. Puking gets your system cleared,” Tadashi replies, laughing, and hands Hiro the toothpaste.

            His hands are shaking and he curses inwardly—because a trip to the swear jar is too damn far. He quickly takes the toothpaste, haphazardly extruding it onto his toothbrush bristles that are far too bent to be usable. He shuffles to his sink and gives thanks that it’s closer to the door. Tadashi finishes up, rinses, and before walking out, takes a pit stop beside Hiro.

            Avoiding his gaze, Hiro stares at the sink, suddenly becoming aware of how big it is and how he only really spits in one area so it defeats the purpose of having such a wide sink bowl.

            Tadashi slings an arm around, and in the moment, Hiro spits out his toothpaste and rinses.

            “You’re gonna do great.” Tadashi whispers and Hiro wants to scream that he’s not because he’s fucking fourteen and trying to get into college.

            When Hiro doesn’t reply, Tadashi bends down, trying to meet Hiro’s downcast gaze.

            “It’s not like high school okay?” Tadashi’s voice says, all gentle and kind but Hiro knows that it’s his nature.

            Their eyes meet and Hiro turns around.

            They trail back to their sides of the room, the paper divider doing little to differentiate whose side is whose considering how much of Tadashi’s things are on Hiro’s side. Most of them are parts and tools never returned, but someday Hiro will remember to give them back. He’ll just have to be done using them, he figures.

As they dress in their respective spots, Hiro takes a sharp intake of breathe.

            Today is the third Wednesday of August, and today is the day his life will change forever.

 

Tadashi’s wearing a forest green blazer, a black shirt, and a grey cardigan with black skinny jeans and Hiro can’t help but think he’s crazy for wearing three layers in summer weather. Their breakfast is easy yoghurt because Aunt Cass knows that the last thing the boys care about, especially Hiro, is food. Immediately afterwards, they brush again and head to the garage. Hiro starts commenting on Tadashi’s poor choice of clothing again.

 

“Relax Hiro! Your tech is amazing! Tell him, Gogo!” Honey gushes and Hiro is wondering how she has not flung her phone somewhere by her encompassing gestures.

“Stop whining, woman up.” Gogo says as she snaps her gum. It’s getting stale, maybe he can go get her a new piece.

Honey’s an encouragement machine. Wasabi is as collected as he can be. Fred is a lighthearted jokester and Hiro’s commenting on Tadashi’s poor choice of clothes faster than he can win a bot-fight.

            “I mean,” Hiro starts as he triple checks that all the bins are in position. “God Tadashi, you’re going to sweat like hell up in here. I mean, it’s burning like hell in here for sure.”

            He starts again on his fourth check while readjusting his hoodie and takes in all the tech at the showcase, barely able to even focus on anything.

            “Next presenter, Hiro Hamada.” A dull voice echoes on the intercom and Hiro’s heart freezes.

            He’s going through his speech for the seventeenth time that day when he actually makes eye contact with Tadashi, whose hand is in search of a fist bump.

            “What’s up?” Tadashi asks, his eyes becoming wide with his big-brother receptors blaring.

            “I really want to go here…” Hiro breathes, as if it’s too much of a dream to say, fearing that it’ll fly away. “No…I _have_ to go here…”

            “You got this.” Tadashi says, wrapping his arm around Hiro’s shoulder and for a moment, they stand like that; Hiro’s eyes darting nowhere but the fibers of the very insulted blazer. It’s safe. He returns with a tight hug, not wanting to let go, like all the other times in his life: their parents funeral, first night at Aunt Cass’, the nights following that, first days of school—which were a regular occurrence in his IQ’s ever-dying quest to find the right grade to stay in for a year—and so on. It’s his brother. It’s his best friend. The only friend he’s ever had.

 

He’s standing on stage, heart racing faster than the speed of light, which he knows isn’t possible but he doesn’t give a damn. He sees Aunt Cass, Tadashi’s friends…Tadashi. They smile, and Hiro’s eyes immediately find Tadashi’s. They share a stare, a breath, and soon, with all of his ability to hope, a school.

 

He’s finishing his presentation, all the hot-shots of the tech world are around the stage, their eyes peaked with interest but all he wants to do is run up to Tadashi. Claps erupt and the audience disperses. There are pats on the back, head locks, and hugs and somewhere amongst it all, Hiro finds a forest green blazer adorned with a San Fransokyo Ninjas baseball cap. On a balcony facing the other buildings of SFIT, Tadashi’s eyes are brighter than anything in the room and Hiro’s heart is racing from the adrenaline on stage to even begin to thank his brother for everything, how much he means to him, how much he’s going to make this world a better place and Tadashi is to thank for that because his own world wouldn’t be better without his brother.

            Then the fire happens.

 

He’s screaming outside, crying, wailing, whatever you want to call it. He’s screaming for his big brother, his best friend. He’s clawing at inferno, wrestling against arms trying to hold him back from Tadashi burning inside the showcase hall. His throat is burning, bleeding from the agony of seeing the fire being put out, but the pain only beginning to spark inside of him.

            His throat is too raw to speak; his eyes are too dry to cry. Aunt Cass is hugging him so tight and he wants to push her away but he can’t find the strength to even breathe properly.

            He chokes when he sees a stretcher being wheeled out from the destroyed showcase hall. The body is covered in a white cloth and Hiro’s eyes go wide before Aunt Cass covers them and whispers nonsense into his ear. It doesn’t matter.

            It won’t be okay.

            Tadashi is gone.

 

His world goes black and for a moment, he wonders if Aunt Cass was somehow able to hold him tighter.

 

“C’mon Hiro wake up! You ready?”

            Hiro’s eyes snap open, the sunlight glares at his eyes and everything is a blur except a worn, blue T-shirt, grey sweatpants, and chocolate eyes that could give anyone a cavity. Tadashi’s there. Tadashi’s alive, breathing, and there; laughing and smiling with Hiro’s blankets wound taut in his fists as he cheers that today is the day.

            Tadashi’s there.

            Tadashi’s here.

            It was all a nightmare, Hiro thinks, as he leaps for Tadashi’s arms and breathes, each one barely coming out because Tadashi is here, all real and alive, with the same scent of his fancy shampoo and horrible morning breath.

            “What day is it?” he asks frantically, hysteria in every syllable.

“Wednesday, silly, it’s your big day!” Tadashi smiles and Hiro breaks.

“You’re here. You’re here, oh my god.” Hiro cries as he crumples onto the floor and Tadashi bends his knees in pursuit of not having Hiro have a hard landing.

            “Whoa…whoa…Yeah, Hiro, I’m here…” he says, his words awkward and Hiro can tell his brother receptors are going off again.

            He’s glad they’re still there.

            “I’ll always be here.” Tadashi says and Hiro cries as he feels Tadashi’s hand run through his black locks of a crow’s nest. Hiro’s never had a mom or dad, but he has Tadashi, and that’s all that ever matters.

 

Tadashi’s wearing a forest green blazer, a black shirt, and a grey cardigan with black skinny jeans and Hiro nearly has a panic attack. His voice shakes and cracks as inferno flickers behind his eyes. He tries to shred the thought because Tadashi is here. Nothing can take him away.

            He asks Tadashi if he can wear his tan blazer.

            “Tan and grey look better together.” He reasons as he tries to even out his breathing.

            “O-kay then ‘Mr. Fashion Expert’,” Tadashi says playfully and Hiro tries to laugh along. “Head down without me,”

            Hiro wants to protest, but he heads downstairs and yoghurt is at his usual spot. He bids Aunt Cass a good morning.

            “Aw, now I’ll have two college boys soon!” she coos and he smiles because everything is going to be fine today. Everything will be okay.

            Then Tadashi falls down the stairs and the snap of his neck burns Hiro’s ears.

 

“C’mon Hiro!”

            Hiro sits straight up and the sunlight doesn’t even hurt his eyes, but he ends up head-butting Tadashi as a result. His eyes are stinging, throat dry and constricted. Tadashi is clutching his lower jaw, playfully saying, “Well, _someone_ is excited!”

            “What day is it?” Hiro demands, his chest heaving with every breath as the need to puke becomes more evident with each intake of air.

            “What? It’s Wednesday, silly, how could you forget?” Tadashi says, turning to head to the restroom as he goes on about how excited he is.

            Hiro bolts out of his bed and into the washroom. Tadashi’s bubbly and happy, typical of him when he’s excited.

            “What the fuck is going on?” Hiro asks, standing in the doorway.

            “Dude, really?” Tadashi gives him a sly smile. “No swear jar today, it’s too good of a day.”

            “No but really, what is going on?” Hiro continues, his voice becoming more serious. Tadashi looks at him inquisitively and spits.

            “Uh, your showcase? The thing you’ve been slaving over for the past, oh I don’t know, two months?” Tadashi says, crossing his arms, eyes flooding with concern.

            His big brother receptors are working fine, Hiro notices.

            “No, I swear to God, this is crazy.” Hiro says and Tadashi’s eyes beam.

            “I know right? Never thought you would finish—”

            “ _No_.” Hiro’s voice drops, “I had two nightmares. _Two_. And they started exactly like this.”

            Tadashi’s eyes soften, and Hiro just knows. Nightmares are a common family friend that likes to visit them.

            “You’ve had things like that before…” Tadashi’s voice is soft as he makes his way towards Hiro. “You’re just nervous. It happens to all of us, Hiro.”

           “No. No, they weren’t like the ones I had when I was a kid,” Hiro’s voice hitches a bit, and if it was possible, he saw Tadashi’s eyes melt. Nightmares were a constant, he knew. They never stopped; they used to always climb into each other’s beds when the other had one, but for years, Hiro stopped coming to Tadashi about them.

            _“I’m ten for crying out loud, I can take care of myself.”_

 _“Exactly, you’re_ ten, _nightmares are normal for ten year olds. They’re normal for everyone, Hiro.”_

_“I’m big enough now.” He bit his lip. He didn’t want to seem like a kid to Tadashi; a snot-nosed, crying kid who had more nightmares than assignments for school. “I can handle it myself.”_

_“I’ll still be here if you ever want to talk…”_

_“Yeah, okay.”_

            He hadn’t come to Tadashi since then.

            “These were the same. These were exactly the same.”

            “Well…what happened?” Tadashi asks, and Hiro can just sense the hesitation.

           “It was…today. I had two nightmares about today. Both started the same and ended the same.” He says this, and Hiro feels his stomach lurch.

            “How’d…they end?” Tadashi presses.

            His entire world is spinning and Tadashi’s voice is echoing in and out but he holds his ground, he holds it and shakes the words out of him.

            “You…died…”

            Tadashi walks towards him, slowly, and a warm embrace makes its way around Hiro.

            “Well, I don’t plan on dying any time soon.” Tadashi mumbles into Hiro’s hair.

            Hiro doesn’t explain the fire. He doesn’t explain the snap of Tadashi’s neck as he fell down the stairs. The thought of Tadashi dying has his knees stiffen and he loses all sense of balance. Falling onto his hands, he feels Tadashi’s hands clasp on his shoulders. His eyes barely open, he sees worry in the brother receptors, blaring questions of what he needs.

            “Gonna…puke…” he mumbles and before he knows it, Tadashi’s cradling him and sitting him in front of the toilet.

            He dry heaves, again and again.

            “It’s okay, just let it come up,” Tadashi consoles, rubbing small circles on Hiro’s back before quickly leaving his side to fetch something, most likely Aunt Cass.

            “It’s…It’s fine…” Hiro blubbers, his words altered by spit. “I got—”

            He’s interrupted by another dry heave.

            “I…got nothing…to come up…” He wheezes as he forcibly closes the toilet lid. Hiro’s falling back before a pair of arms catches him and he feels delicate fingers combing his fringe and a cool cloth towel cleaning up the spit around his mouth. He feels so small, and for a while, he’s seven years old and Tadashi’s cleaning him up after a couple of fifth graders had held him down and kicked him in the gut.

            “You’re staying home today, no buts.” Tadashi murmurs and a wave of ease brings Hiro to a peaceful slumber.          

            He wakes up, some few hours later, the air cold and his blankets tucked perfectly around him. There’s lukewarm soup at his bedside table with a note saying that he could always try some other time from Aunt Cass. His back clicks as he props himself up on his elbows. The house is quiet. There’s no sound of Mochi’s claws clicking around. There’s no loud chatter of the café on the lowest floor. In the five minutes he’s been awake, the bell at the door is silent at its post.

            Then he sees the hallway light flick on and slow, heavy steps have the stairs heave with low creaks of complaints. Aunt Cass’s silhouette crawls up the wall, her back arched and head down.

            She comes into view, and Hiro’s conscious enough to notice the red rims of emptied eyes that don’t belong to her. They’re a dull green, the color of split pea soup that’s been sitting on the stove for too long.

            Then she tells him that Tadashi’s been in accident with his moped and a car that missed a red light.

            He died instantly.

            He was coming back from getting Hiro medicine.

 

“C’mon Hiro, wake up!”

            Hiro wakes up.

            Then Tadashi dies.

            Again.

            Again.

            Always again.

 

It’s the fortieth Wednesday; Tadashi dies from a heart attack caused of unknown reasons.

            Hiro doesn’t get to be awake long enough to figure out Tadashi’s deaths.

            He just wakes up to see them.

 

It’s the sixty-seventh Wednesday; Tadashi dies after eating spoiled yoghurt.

 

It’s the seventy-eighth Wednesday; Tadashi dies from slipping in the shower that Hiro had forced him to take.

 

It’s the eight-first Wednesday; Tadashi dies from choking on toothpaste.

 

Tadashi will wear all possible combinations of his clothes, per Hiro’s demand. Hiro will demand that Tadashi not come to the showcase. They won’t have yoghurt for breakfast that day. They won’t go to the showcase. It won’t change. It won’t matter. Hiro can’t ever wake up differently. He hears the same cheerful greeting and as the Wednesdays go on, he starts to get adjusted to the routine. He’ll recite word for word what Tadashi will say while he’s saying it.

            Sometimes he’ll tell Tadashi what’s going on.

            Those are the long days. It takes a while for Tadashi to die.

            The days are never long enough for the showcase to finish. No day is like the first one.

            He wonders if he’s becoming morbid as the days go on, wondering how long it will take for his brother to die and for the routine, his Wednesday routine, to start all over again.

 

It’s the ninety-ninth Wednesday; something changes. Aunt Cass wakes up him up. Then his world goes black.

 

It’s the one-hundredth Wednesday; it’s the same as the first.

            Except this time, Hiro doesn’t wake up.

 

The loss weighs heavy, heavier than any other death he’s witnessed. His first Thursday after one hundred Wednesdays trickles. He sits cross legged on his bed—his blood flow is constricted but the more numb he feels, the better—clutching Tadashi’s baseball hat. The color is faded in some areas, threads uncoiling in others, and like Tadashi’s headstone, it’s cold. The unsaid words of one-hundred Wednesdays drive him up the walls. Waking up to an endless nightmare; he laughs bitterly, but it comes out as a sob. In all the days, Hiro could never tell Tadashi everything. He never was able to get this far with his Wednesday routine. There was no aftermath. There was only death. Death, seeking attention, had followed him, throughout all the Wednesdays.

            Hiro wonders if Death has become bored with him, and now Grief is taking its rightful place. All the life in him, replaced by plastic veins; he wonders, as he falls onto his side, if seeing Death was better than feeling Grief.

 

There’s too many memories for Hiro to drown in. He lets himself be taken over by the waves. They’re more faithful than anything, the sea’s waves. Again and again, they come, the sentiments and recollections. Crashing down upon him, eroding him down until he’s brittle enough to wither away on his own; when the water subsides, he sits upon the shore, falling into the sands of time.

            Then, he says something.

            “Ow,”

            And then he learns.

 

He learns everything from a huggable health-bot, an energetic chemist, a gentle physicist, a level-headed mechanical engineer, and a fun-loving nerd. He learns of sacrifice, he learns of empathy, and he learns of his brother never like before. He learns what it’s like to slice through the wind, to see his reflection in the window, and be on top of the world.

It all comes crashing down again however, when he sees his brother again, for the first time in many Wednesdays.

“Tadashi is here.” The huggable robot designed by Tadashi says. His name is Baymax. In his own way, Baymax has big brother receptors. He can do anything, Hiro has seen it. But Hiro believes, out of everything Baymax can do, he can’t ever bring Tadashi back.

“No…he’s not…” Hiro says, and Grief seeps out of his plastic veins.

“Tadashi is here.” Baymax repeats and Hiro is angry. He screams at the sea and curses at the recollections. The thought of Tadashi leaving a legacy when he should be creating one cracks Hiro in all the ways he’s patched himself. One-hundred-and-one lifetimes, it seems. Each one altered, each one changed somehow by him. The end result never changes, he realizes, and maybe that was the point that one hundred lifetimes gave to him.

For the first time in many Wednesdays, he sees Tadashi again. And then he knows that Tadashi was right.

He’ll always be here, in all the lifetimes, in all the Wednesdays.

He leaves the shore, the faithful sea bidding him goodbye. He knows he won’t return. His friends teach him forgiveness and he then realizes that he was not the only one that lost Tadashi.

He learns what his brother’s intentions were, the first…and hundredth time.

             “Someone has to help.”

            He decides that he’s going to be that ‘someone’.

           

When he loses Baymax, he is true to himself, and does not return to the shoreline.

            Hiro steps forward in a different direction. He snips at the veins, one by one they fall away. Grief fades away from his life, and Hiro is, by leaps and bounds, better. The tools are never returned and Tadashi’s room is closed off with their divider, but Hiro will open it up on occasions. The café does well; his dark circles and eye bags are a hot topic amongst the customers after an incident with falling asleep at one of the counters. Hiro grows half an inch before Wasabi claims that his growth has a ninety percent chance of plateauing.

            He’s glad.

 

It’s the one hundredth and fifty-sixth Wednesday; Baymax is fully rebuilt.

One of the first things Hiro asks Baymax after he’s rebuilt is what the date is.

“Today is Wednesday, Hiro.”

“Indeed it is, buddy.”

This is the last time Hiro counts by the Wednesdays.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Supernatural episode "Mystery Spot" (3.11)  
> Comments aren't necessary but would be greatly appreciated


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